


Moments of Quiet Peace and Healing

by NahaFlowers



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: Thomas takes in an injured Silver when he appears at their doorstep. James isn't best pleased. A collection of moments between these three, set an indeterminate amount of time after the finale.





	1. You Don't Have To Say Anything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Magnetism_bind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/gifts).



> Written for [bisexualpirateheart](http://bisexualpirateheart.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [crossposted there](http://buildarocketboys.tumblr.com/post/161823139245/you-dont-have-to-say-anything-for).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _John cleared his mouth to speak. James glared at him furiously._
> 
> _“I have nothing to say to you,” he spat._
> 
> _Silver shrugged. “You don’t have to say anything.”_
> 
> Thomas takes in an injured John Silver. When James returns, he isn't best pleased, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [bisexualpirateheart](http://bisexualpirateheart.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr and [crossposted](http://buildarocketboys.tumblr.com/post/161823139245/you-dont-have-to-say-anything-for) there.

When Silver got to their cottage (it was a shack, really, built by their own unskilled hands, but they were simple men now, with simple needs), Thomas recognised him immediately. Although James did not much speak of that time, the little he did tell him often featured the one-legged, curly-haired Long John Silver. As to the nature of their relationship, Thomas had never been entirely sure – James brushed it off when he asked him and told Thomas that it was a time long gone. Thomas was happy enough to let it go.

But now that ghost of James’s (or, more precisely, Captain Flint’s) past was hobbling up the garden path, looking much the worse for wear – a wound on the side of his head, scars and scratches all over his arms and face, and black rings under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for days. Pressing his lips together, Thomas said nothing but beckoned him inside, thanking God that James wasn’t home yet.

“Thomas Hamilton?” John Silver asked when he had sat down, in a voice that sounded like it hadn’t been used in weeks. Thomas nodded.

“I’ll fetch you some water and then see to your wounds,” he said hurriedly. “James is out on an errand,” he said by way of explanation to the question half-formed on Silver’s lips.

 

When James did arrive back and saw Silver sitting in his armchair, talking to Thomas, the look in his eyes was murderous.

John immediately stopped talking and Thomas looked around for the interruption.

“James,” he implored, standing up and taking one of James’s hands between his own.

“What is he doing here?” James said between gritted teeth.

“He was badly injured, James. I couldn’t exactly turn him away,” Thomas said, a little apologetically.

James sighed. “No. But you’ve seen to him now. Why is he still here?”

John cleared his mouth to speak. James glared at him furiously.

“I have nothing to say to you,” he spat.

Silver shrugged. “You don’t have to say anything.”

James sagged. “Fine,” he grumbled, and flopped down in the armchair Thomas had just vacated. He ran a hand across his sweaty brow. “Fine.”

Silver smiled gently. “I do, however, have some things I need to say to you.”

James practically growled.

“Not tonight,” said Thomas in an undertone. “Why don’t you take the spare room and get some rest, John?”

James rolled his eyes and choked back a laugh of disbelief.

“What?” said Silver, rounding on him.

“Already on first name terms, I see,” he said bitterly.

“Don’t be jealous, James, it doesn’t suit you,” Thomas said gently, leaving James sputtering in his wake. With a grateful glance at Thomas, John hobbled to the room Thomas had indicated and shut the door behind him.


	2. Gardening and Ointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt "Have you seen-oh" on Tumblr. Thomas walks in on John, half naked, rubbing ointment on his bad leg. Thomas gives him a hand, and wonders about the three of them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having so much fun writing this dynamic so I hope you enjoy! Also (sadly) not actually smutty, yet.

_Fuck. Where was the fucking trowel?_

In his previous life, Thomas Hamilton had not been a man given to swearing. He had, however, found a small amount of satisfaction in cursing over the past ten years, and it was a feeling that did not come to him easily in those days, so he held fast to it. A tiny act of rebellion which, as long as it remained inside his head, would not even warrant punishment.

The trowel was, apparently, nowhere in the garden. He cursed under his breath now, for he needed to plant these seeds before midsummer’s day if they were to have enough food for the coming winter, and that time was fast approaching.

Not in the main room, which was used for anything and everything, from cooking to eating to relaxing (as far as three men battered and broken by the years and the cruelty of the world could relax – mostly they drank and played cards), though Thomas turned out the big chest in the corner twice.

Not in the room that he and James shared, most of the time, although James had been splitting his time more and more between his and John’s room, which was the next place Thomas had to look.

Knocking on the door, John answered with a cheerful, “Come in!”, so Thomas pushed the door open and entered.

“John, have you seen- oh.” He stopped abruptly when he saw John before him in a state of undress. He was completely naked apart from a pair of drawers (which, if Thomas was being honest with himself, did little to hide what was beneath). He was rubbing some sort of ointment on his amputated leg. Thomas took him in, looking him greedily up and down, twice, and then swallowed and averted his eyes in embarrassment. Although James was spending more time with John at night (although he always crept back to Thomas in the morning, with a kiss and a whispered apology, which Thomas insisted wasn’t necessary), they had not yet discussed the possibility of all three of them together. He had no idea if either James or John would want that at all, and Thomas was loath to bring it up (although it featured in his fantasies quite often) when the two other men were only just beginning to heal the damage done between them.

John, however, had noticed Thomas’s appreciative stare and raised an eyebrow to himself, straightening his back and puffing out his chest so his body was displayed at its best, positively preening for the other man.

Thomas huffed out a laugh. “I was looking for my trowel,” he said helplessly, as if that would explain the look he has just given John. John raised his eyebrows at him disbelievingly, but merely said, “Of course. Although I don’t think you’ll find it in here.”

“No,” said Thomas, clearing his throat, still not looking at John. He turned to go.

“Thomas?” said John before he could make good his escape and relieve himself of his frustrations in the privacy of his room. “Would you help me with this?” he asked, indicating the ointment in his hand.

Now it was Thomas’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

John explained quickly, “I mean, I can do it myself, of course I can, but James usually helps me out, only he’s been a bit distracted the past few days,” Thomas knew why that was, although he had no idea if John did. It was Miranda’s birthday on midsummer’s day, so James was spending more time out alone than usual. When he was here, he was distracted and distant. John continued, “and there’s a bit round the back that’s a _bitch_ to get at.” He shrugged helplessly. “Will you?”

“Of course.” Thomas nodded, smiling. Sexual frustration aside, he was touched that John trusted him enough to touch his leg. When he had first arrived (battered, bruised and dirty), he had allowed Thomas to patch him up and clean his wounds, but he had flinched when Thomas had gone near his bad leg, so he had left it well alone.

Since then, Thomas hadn’t been close enough to John to need to touch his leg, but this made it clear that it was not only with James that John had made progress.

Soon, John was lying back on the bed and Thomas was massaging the ointment into his stump. John kept sighing and groaning and saying things like, “Oh yes, right there,” which was very distracting, not to mention inconvenient. Thomas thought conversation would distract them both from his growing arousal.

“So what does it actually help with, this ointment?”

As conversation starters went, it wasn’t the most inspiring, and John opened one eye and looked up at him as if to say, “Are you being serious right now?” Seeing Thomas appeared to be so, he sighed. “It soothes the joints, mostly. And the lesions I get from wearing that thing all day.” He indicated the peg leg on the floor.

“Does it hurt?” asked Thomas, concerned. John wore the bloody thing all hours of the day except when he was in his room, it seemed to Thomas, and if he was hurting himself for either of their sakes, Thomas was having none of it.

“A bit. Sometimes – ah – sometimes a lot,” he finished as Thomas rubbed the ointment into a particularly sore spot. He grimaced up at him. “But you get used to it.”

“Hm,” said Thomas, unhappily.

“That’s enough,” said John, pushing himself into a sitting position. “You don’t think I should wear it, do you?” It was said almost accusingly.

Thomas shuffled back, looking embarrassed. “It’s not that I think that you shouldn’t wear it,” he said carefully. “I can see how it can be- useful. Just- if it’s hurting you, maybe you should wear it less.”

John huffed, but smiled up at Thomas uncertainly.

Thomas carried on. “I mean, if it’s me you’re worried about, you needn’t be. I’ve seen you without it now. There’s no shame in it.”

John smiled again, tightly, painfully. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

Thomas furrowed his brow, confused. “James? But then – you said he helped you-”

“In bed, yes. It’s different in _bed_ with him.” John smiled suggestively, and Thomas found himself choking back a laugh as John’s gaze darkened again. “But I’m not ready to be without it in front of him outside the bedroom, yet.”

Thomas nodded, understanding and not understanding. Sometimes he forgot just how much James had changed in the years they had been forced apart, how he had hurt people and been hurt in return, including by this man sat in front of him.

“So this?” Thomas dared to ask, indicating the two of them and the spark so clearly between them. He knew he shouldn’t ask, with John in so vulnerable a position, but since he had shown Thomas he might be interested, he couldn’t help but pursue it.

John shrugged uncomfortably. “Well, I’m not bringing it up with him. He’d probably kill me.” Thomas snorted. “Or at least throw me out,” he amended, glaring at Thomas reproachfully. “You might have better luck with him, though,” he said, hopefully, and Thomas detected the unspoken question.

“Are you asking me to bring it up with him?”

John nodded and shrugged.

Thomas sighed. “I’ll try. When he comes back to us.” They both knew he didn’t mean physically. John nodded in understanding. “I can’t deny I feel like it would really complete our setup here.” Thomas offered him a small smile, fragile in the making and hard-won.

John smiled back. “Until then, then, _amigo_ ,” he said with a little quirk of his lips, and Thomas grinned and left the room.

 

A few days later, when midsummer’s day had come and gone and James had come back to them again, much to both Thomas’s and John’s relief, Thomas turned to James in bed as the latter closed his book and set it down.

“We need to talk about John.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, I'm having a lot of fun writing the dynamic between the three of them, so if anyone has any requests for me to write in this 'verse (about any of them, in any combination, separately or together) let me know! Comments are love.


End file.
